Mama, Autumn Comes

there is no easy path
to ride into your
Indian summers.
Autumn is upon you now
but you stoutly refuse
to put on your coat
or stop swimming
in the ocean.
Storms may come,
but you insist
you can mold any wave
with your spirit
that still sees itself
riding mustangs
in the desert,
where no ocean dares
to touch.

But that won’t change
that I’m still on shore,
screaming over the waves
you carelessly kicked your way to;
screaming of dropping leaves,
graying skies,
dooming white caps.
I’m just your daughter,
so to you, it isn’t my place
to give warning.
The Indian within you
knows better.

But still,
Autumn comes.

One thought on “Mama, Autumn Comes

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s